


Roller Derby

by BlueFennec



Series: Life and Other Harmful Activities [2]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Abducted Genitals, Awkward Sexual Situations, Coming Out In the Worst Possible Moment, Consent Issues, Drunk Sex, F/M, Hair-pulling, Inappropriate Humor, Misunderstandings, Not Beta Read, Rough Kissing, Sorry Not Sorry, They're Both Too Drunk Really, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Trans Male V-User, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-04-01 10:12:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4015834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueFennec/pseuds/BlueFennec
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And then there was Marci.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

They were so, so very drunk, and that was fine, just fine. The way Marci pushed him up against the wall, she didn't seem to mind, either. Foggy didn't do this, usually, but all the hangups and complications seemed a lot smaller, viewed through a bottle. Her hand in his hair and his hands up her shirt and all the _things_ she did with her tongue easily shut up the rest of if doubts. 

Marci had done everything but tackle him to the floor to make a pass at him, and Foggy had deflected and evaded until now. He knew he should have just told her why he wasn't rolling with it, to try to find out if this was a game breaker or something they could work with, but he... he hadn't gotten around to it. The moment never seemed to be right.

This wasn't the right moment to ask her, either. So when her hand slipped into the front of his waistband, he gently pulled it back out and placed it on the small of his back. She growled at him – actually _growled_ – and brought her hand further down, grabbing his ass so hard he could feel her nails through his jeans. _Jesus._

She took hold of his hand, then, and led it from under her shirt down into her skirt, as if showing him what she had intended, and yes, that was absolutely where his hand was meant to be right now. He slowly started to circle his fingers, and she pushed hard against him. “Good?” 

“Mmm... yesss.” Marci's other hand moved around his waist again, and went for the buttons. He let go of her breast, and quickly moved his hand to seize her wrist. “No.”

She stopped, then – not just unbuttoning his jeans, but also the kissing. Foggy got the hint, and they untangled, both still breathing heavily. “Foggy Bear...” Marci started, licked her lips looking at his chest, not his face. She raised her eyes to ask, “Are you gay?”

Foggy looked at her dumbfounded, arousal and alcohol still slowing his response. “ _What_? Sorry, what?”

She sighed. “Or are you just not into any of this? You could have said, you know.”

_Oh, fuck._ “No, Marci, that's...” _Fuck._ “I'm totally into this, and I'm totally into you, yeah?”

“Doesn't look like it.” She straightened out her skirt, then his shirt. “You won't let me touch you, and, well...” She looked down again, more pointedly this time. “You say you're into this, but your body sure doesn't.”

Foggy let his head thud against the wall behind him. This couldn't get any more mortifying than it already was, no matter if he walked, or let her walk, or got his act together and told her. Just that only one of these options held any chance of them getting back to the hotter part of this night, and that his brain was only responsible for small parts of this decision process. His brain said, 'Let her walk away and talk to her tomorrow.' Vodka and hormones said,

“Yeah, that's not what you wanna look at if you wanna know that.”

She frowned, and he pulled her closer again. She went along with it, and he proceeded to do the dumbest and most direct thing he could think of to get his point across. He took her hand, and like her a a moment ago, led it right down where she had wanted it to be. Only that he took it behind the scenes – slipped it in behind his stuffer. He watched her face, saw the pieces click into place one by one. He let go of her hand again. Coming from Marci, there were only two possible reactions now: She would go on doing what they'd been doing, or she would punch him. 

Foggy waited for the punch.

His eyes went wide when she slipped two fingers inside him instead, a huge grin on her face. “Yeah, that feels a lot more like it.” _Holy shit._ “You like that?”

_Holy shit._

He'd just won the fucking lottery.

Too perplexed to reply in words, he took hold of her again, pulled her back, and his hands had found their way back under her shirt and her skirt, and with his worries gone, god, yes, amazing . Things went quickly from here. Somewhere down the line, something that was intended to be a kiss turned into an enthusiastic biting contest, and the way his lip felt, Foggy was pretty sure that Marci was winning.

He didn't mind, not at all, didn't mind the way everything dissolved into heat and moans and the taste of her mouth, of alcohol and cigarettes, and finally, into a sweet and sharp moment of bliss.


	2. Chapter 2

An orgasm is not the worst last thing to recall when you wake up to the world's grossest hangover. Foggy was... he was... ah, yeah, in the corridor leading to his room, hair in knots and jeans hanging half off his ass. Something had crawled under his tongue and up his sinuses last night and died there. 

He got up and stumbled back to his room. Matt was still asleep, peacefully drooling into his pillow for once instead of turning and mumbling. Foggy really didn't mean to wake him, but moving carefully was beyond his capabilities right now. He beelined to his bed as deftly as he could, and only knocked over his desk lamp once.

“Long night?” The sound was muffled. Matt didn't deem it necessary to lift his face from the pillow for this.

Foggy nodded. _Ah, damn._ “Yeah, you could say that.”

Matt was smirking into his pillow, he could hear it. “Good night?”

“Best night, man. _Best_ night.” Foggy stripped, intent on getting a few hours of actual sleep – it didn't really matter what time it was, or if Matt was still in bed or already. “I'll tell you all about it when... when...” He paused and blinked. “I can't believe she did that.”

“Did what?” Matt seemed a bit more alert now, which was just as well – Foggy was definitely awake and sober now. 

“She... uh. She took a souvenir.”

“You sound like she took your wallet.”

“A very _private_ souvenir.” Foggy rubbed at his face. This was unbelievable. Unbe- _fucking_ -lievable.

“You _really_ should be more careful with that thing. First I trip over it, then it gets stolen...”

He could the blood rise to his face, his ears heating up. He was glad Matt couldn't see him right now. “Not funny!”

“You let a girl steal your dick, Foggy. It's a _little_ funny.”

Maybe Matt was right and he could laugh about it when he'd had some sleep. It was not like he'd written his name on it, so what was she supposed to do? Foggy fell face first into his pillow and groaned. “At least let a man _die_ with some dignity.”

Matt chuckled. “Yeah. Night.”

Foggy closed his eyes. He dreamed of soft touches and heated kisses, not embarrassments.


	3. Chapter 3

Marci called a day later, willing to exchange her hostage for ransom – dinner and a drink. It was the weirdest way he'd ever gotten to date somebody.

Not that Foggy minded. Marci was an adventure. She was energetic and open-minded, and talked nearly as much as Foggy himself did. The woman was driven, one of the best students in their year, and their legal discussions were about as heated as the sex they had. They could talk for hours, and when they came to an impasse… well.

Adventures, though, were demanding, and eventually exhausting. There were only so many nights that Foggy could power through in a row, and only so many drinks he could have. There were only so many changes he could make to accommodate her need for going faster, living more. She would stop at nothing to get what she wanted, and sometimes, in their discussions and in the way she talked to other people, she would cross a line that he did not want to cross.

It lasted for six months, before she told him that sure, they could stay friends, even with benefits, but that romance was starting to get in the way of her studies. That he was sweet and everything, but she had a career to take care of.

Foggy was tough as nails. Marci was tougher.


End file.
